


Gangster's Paradise

by schumie



Category: Persona 4
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 02:49:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schumie/pseuds/schumie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yosuke notices that Izanagi looks a little too much like a delinquent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gangster's Paradise

It was Yosuke who noticed first. Or maybe he just felt comfortable enough to actually say it.

“Dude,” he said, talking around his straw as they sat in the Junes food court, “why is your persona so much...cooler than everyone else’s?”

“Speak for yourself,” Kanji’d crossed his arms. “Take-mikazuchi’d kick your ass any day.”

“I don’t mean it that way. Plus, you know Izanagi could take any of our personas down. It’s just...cooler. And I don’t mean stronger. Beating things to a pulp isn’t everything, you know. Appearances are important too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean. You gotta beef with the way I look?”

Kanji was nearly out of his seat, when Teddy butted in.

“What do you mean, Yosuke? Sensei is the coolest! Of course his persona is cool!”

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, you stupid bear,” Yosuke mumbled, crossing his arms.

“Yosuke has persona envy,” Rise giggled.

“I--what--I DO NOT,” Yosuke slammed his hand down on the table, spilling his soda everywhere, then freaking out as Teddy helped wipe at his favorite shirt, definitely not helping. Yukiko was in a laughing fit by then, and Chie had doubled over in her chair.

None of them ever really talked about Souji’s persona. Or the fact that he hadn’t had to face a shadow of himself like they all had. Maybe it hadn’t occurred to them, but Souji doubted that. They’d all suffered through a lot, gaining the strength to face themselves. They had to wonder. Souji, not for the first time, was thankful to them. Whatever they thought about it, they knew not to ask.

Or maybe they were just scared of the answer.

Yosuke went into a pouty silence after that, and everyone dropped the matter. Now that Mitsuru had been caught, they didn’t know whether they would ever even see their own persona again. It wasn’t like they popped up in Inaba whenever they needed help cleaning the house or grocery shopping. Souji believed that they were all a little disturbed by that. It was like having a part of yourself you know about, a strong part that protects you, and never being able to see it again. Did the persona even exist outside the TV world? He was sure he wasn’t the only one wondering these things...

_________________________________

 

The cigarettes only came out once. He’d only brought two packs with him anyway. He’d nearly forgotten about them until he’d turned his room inside-out, looking for any way to undo what had happened. Like he’d find an answer under his futon. A solution in his sock drawer. Like tearing the house apart would somehow nullify what had happened to his family. Of course, he couldn’t find that in a bedroom closet, but he found the pack of cigarettes in the back.

Again, it’d been Yosuke that had brought it up.

“I...didn’t want to say anything around the rest of the group, in case it was, like, a secret or something. But now it makes sense. You’ve been smelling like smoke for the last three days.”

Souji made a vague sound. He was already pulling out a small blue lighter--a plastic, cheap thing--from his jacket pocket before Yosuke could even sit down beside him.

Yosuke stared out at what little of a backyard the Dojima’s had, trying not to look at Souji and failing. Souji could tell. His friend’s eyes keep darting back and forth, so he waited for it, knowing the talk that was coming. It’s so bad for you, dude. You should quit.

“...You need an ashtray?”

That was exactly not what he was expecting. Souji must have had a strange look on his face.

“Er, your uncle smokes, right? He’s a detective, and kinda, you know, gruff. Those types always smoke, right? So there must be an ashtray around...”

No, actually. Doujima did seem the type to smoke though. Souji wondered if it was because of Nanako. Another reason to admire his uncle for trying, even if he was awkward about it. Souji stopped at that thought, taking another long pull and keeping it in just a little too long.

“I guess not, huh,” Yosuke mumbled when Souji didn’t respond. “He’s rough but he’s pretty uptight. I thought he’d kill me after that time with the swords and the food court.”

Souji didn’t reply. He could picture it all perfectly. How Dojima had looked unimpressed with his new choice in friends.

“....I’ll get a plate instead then.”

Yosuke was gone, then back again. And he somehow managed to find snacks in the cupboard (not the refrigerator, thankfully--Souji had told him about the hazards of that). Yosuke settled down, leaning back on one hand and munching at a bag of chips with the other. He took a few bites, then put it to the side.

“You know...” he said slowly, “I’m not going to tell you it’ll be okay. Because it won’t. It’s already not-okay. But we won’t let it be bad.”

Somehow, he’d said it perfectly. If someone had told Souji, ‘it’ll be okay, just wait. Things will work out and they’ll be fine and you can all go to the flood plain together again and be together like a family again’ he would have beat the shit out of them. But Yosuke knows that it’s not okay, and that Souji needs to be the one to fix it. And Souji can’t be responsible for all of them, even though he knows they’re going to go with him and he appreciates it more than he could ever tell them. Yosuke just knew somehow.

“This is your fight right now, but we’ll be with you. You’re our fight.”

Souji thinks Dojima couldn’t have judged Yosuke more wrongly. Maybe his uncle will realize that too, eventually. If he recovers. If Nanako...

Souji moved to flick the butt onto the ground, remembered where he was, and rubbed out his cigarette on the small plate by Yosuke’s hand. Yosuke ddin’t say anything when Souji tapped another one out of the carton.

“But...” Yosuke eyes Souji from the side, “even though we’ll fight for you, we’re not going to let that hold us back, so you better not let us hold you back either.”

Yosuke looks at Souji, and it isn’t sympathy or worry (though Souji knows it’s there--even he has to admit he hasn’t been looking top-notch lately) but it’s that damn smile. That Yosuke smile that he remembers from March. And, despite everything, it manages to look not as tired as it is and not as weary as it should be. Just pure....something. Damn smile that says absolutely nothing and means everything. No one smiled like that in the city.

Souji took another puff and looked at the cigarette. Then held it out to Yosuke, smiling, just a little. Yosuke looked shocked for a second, but whether it was because of the cigarette or the smile, Souji wasn’t sure. But it didn’t bother him.

“Want to try?”

“Me,” Yosuke raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know if I’m hardcore enough for that. Don’t you have to, like, have a silver bowl cut to be cool enough to smoke when you’re in highschool?”

Souji hmm’ed and raised an eyebrow, looking Yosuke over appraisingly then going back to his smoke.

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean,” Yosuke elbowed him.

Another small smile gets through.

_____________________________________

 

“A gangster.”

Souji’s eyes opened a little wider than usual and he stopped mid-step.  
“....what,” he asked, carefully.

“Izanagi,” Yosuke said, looking up from his magazine. “I just realized. It looks like a gangster. Old school style. Long coat, headband. Popped collar. Actually, you sort of look like one too. If you slicked your hair back. I wonder if you’d look as scary as Kanji,” Yosuke chuckled.

“That bowl cut is pretty lame, you know,” Yosuke points out as if it was proof of something.

“Says who? The girls seem to like it. All of them.”

Yosuke punched Souji lightly in the shoulder, “They have bad taste.”

“Hm...Then so do you,” Souji remarked idly. Letting it sink in.

Yosuke turned and blushed.

“S-so anyway. I was thinking we should get bikes. Or rent them. Something,” Yosuke says a little too enthusiastically, messing with his headphones.

“Bikes? Why, did you crash yours again?”

“No, you jerk. Scooters or something. We could go on a weekend trip, all of us. To the beach. Or just to ride around town for a while.”

“Bikes...” Souji muttered vaguely.

“What’s with that dreamy look,” Yosuke asked suspiciously. When Souji said nothing, Yosuke shrugged and goes back to flipping through his magazine.

__________________________________

 

“You are way too good at this, Partner,” Yosuke’s semi-panicked voice shouted in Souji’s right ear. Souji could feel Yosuke’s bangs whipping against his neck. Yosuke’s arms were around his waist, hands fisted in Souji’s shirt and his helmet hard against Souji’s shoulder.

Souji let his wrist turn and the scooter accelerated in a burst. Yosuke fumbled and his hands grabbed, clinging to Souji’s stomach instead for a more solid grip. Souji smiled as Yosuke’s excited protests were lost in the rush of the wind.

 

___________________________________

 

His accent came out when they finally cornered Namatame. Just a little. He didn’t realize he was rolling his R’s when he screa ed with anger. More like, he didn’t care.

Other things came back to him too, when they found Adachi. More...physical things. Like how to beat the living shit out of someone without leaving bruises. Or how to carefully place the bruises so they’re in spots that aren’t normally visible and couldn’t be seen during interrogation. Souji didn’t give a shit where he beat Adachi as long as he hurt him. Hurt him bad. Really bad. His face was hot and his chest was tight and his fists burned to smash in Adachi’s face. Beat it until he would be unrecognizable as Adachi hung from a telephone wire. The thought brought an angry grin to his face that hadn’t been there since his Tokyo days. Souji let it all come back. His life before Inaba, the life when he knew exactly how hard he could hurt someone and how good it felt. Everything built up as he raised his fist.

Yosuke beat him to it. It was a solid punch and connected well. There’s even a bit of a cracking sound as Adachi was sent sprawling. For a split second Souji was ready to turn on Yosuk, beat Yosuke down for taking Souji’s opportunity. His right to beat the everlasting shit out of the murdering scumbag. But Yosuke had a look on his face that Souji had never seen before. Yosuke looked as angry as Souji felt, as driven as Souji felt, but also sad. Yosuke glanced blankly at Souji before heading towards Adachi, his face warping again the second his attention goes back to the detective.

Yosuke beat up Adachi good. Good enough to make him hurt but not bad enough so he can’t walk. Not bad enough that Adachi can’t talk, just good enough so he won’t. Yosuke was smart about it. They’d never have been able to get Adachi out of the TV world to face charges if they’d had to carry his dead body.

__________________________________

 

Afterwards, when everyone is sitting in the Doujima household, making it full so Souji won’t have to remember how empty it still it (but Nanako is doing better and she’ll make it), that Souji and Yosuke sneak away to the porch again.

Souji pulls out his pack of cigarettes. There are two left. He pulls out his second one, still unwrapped.

“...You were right,” he says to Yosuke without looking at him.

“What?”

“About Izanagi. And me. I was a delinquent before. A gangster, I guess.”

Yosuke nods once. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why did you punch Adachi?”

Yosuke looks concerned, a little wary. “Look--I didn’t mean to take it from you. His punishment. If anyone deserved to hit him, you did.”

“Then?”

Yosuke looks him straight in the eye.

“Because you didn’t need to do that. He wasn’t worth it. Gangster or whatever you were before, he wasn’t worth ruining who you’ve become.”

Souji stares at Yosuke for a minute until Yosuke finally breaks eye contact. Then he fingers the top on the open cigarette cartoon. He grabs the unopened one too and slides them across the wood to Yosuke. Yosuke gives him a questioning look.

“Can you get rid of these for me?” he asks.

Yosuke grins that idiotic smile and nods. “Sure thing, Partner.”

Then he remembers, “but...is that okay? I mean, the nicotine and stuff, are you--”

“I’ll be fine,” Souji leans in a little closer. “But it would help if I could keep my mouth busy.”

Yosuke stutters and mumbles the beginnings of at least ten sentences before he excuses himself to go find a garbage can for the cigarettes.

Leaning back on his elbows, Souji looks out into the night and smiles. He wouldn’t trade his life in Inaba for anything.

But damn if he didn’t miss his motorcycle.


End file.
